The Nightlife: London (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series) (10 page)

Ivan aimed straight for his attacker’s forehead, a kill
shot.

The one behind her spoke directly in her ear, loud enough
for Ivan to hear.  “You don’t know me, but my name is Abel.  I once had a
cousin, Juan Carlos.  Your friends killed him and burned his body, like savages. 
There was nothing left to bury.”

Ivan growled low.  “I don’t know this man, Juan Carlos, and
I did not kill him.”

Abel shrugged.  “I can’t say.  I know you are together, so
I’m taking something precious from you.”  He snagged Katya’s jacket and pulled
her back.  The steel of the gun pressed painfully into the base of her skull.

“Fuck.”  Her blood boiled with the need to lash out.  She
could feel the change hovering beneath her skin, a ripple of power dying to get
out.  The power and strength of her wolf built up slowly in her hands. 
She
could do it
.  All she needed was a split second to turn the tables on this
son-of-a-bitch.  Spin, grab, smash, and shoot the other one before he even knew
what had happened.  She envisioned killing both men in a couple of seconds.

Ivan watched her and Abel, his jaw twitching with tension.

“Make a move, and she dies right here in front of you.”

Ivan didn’t move, and he had stopped twitching.

Abel’s breath blew across her neck.  “My cousin JC was like
a brother to me.  I knew him all my life.  For JC, I’m taking her.  I walk
away, and you stay here.  That’s the only way she lives.”

Ivan’s gun-hand swung to Abel’s forehead.  “She dies, you
die, I die, we all fucking die.”

Katya waited for her chance, for the moment Abel moved his
gun, with his attention distracted by Ivan.

The man on the ground regained his feet, shaking off Katya’s
punch and holding his bleeding wrist.  He stared at her warily.  Latin men have
such pride when it comes to being hit by a woman.  His damaged pride flashed in
his eyes.

Abel pushed her towards the other armed Colombian. 
“Vete con ella, por el carro.”

Abel’s pistol never moved from the back of her neck while the
other man also put his gun to her temple.  A fucking tradeoff.

Ivan’s eyes flashed her a warning, and Katya knew he didn’t
want her to try anything,
yet
.  He called out to her as she was pulled
down the sidewalk, at gunpoint, “
Podozhdi, poka mi poiavimsia.  Ne
soprotivliaisia.
” 
Go with them, without resistance
.

“
Koziol!
”  Her frustration blossomed into righteous
fury.  Her wolf growled low in her throat.  She hated when Ivan played these
sick games with her life.

Finally, she was able to look at the man with the gun to her
head, Abel.  What she saw was not encouraging.  Abel was not a man who would
hesitate to pull the trigger.  He had those hardened, emotionless eyes – a man
who had seen and done horrible things, and would do them again if he had to.

He looked her up and down.  “Where is your phone?”

There was no point in playing games, so she did as Ivan
requested – cooperation without resistance.  “In my coat.”

Abel reached into her jacket, feeling around, brushing over
her breasts callously.  Abel’s glacial eyes never left hers as his hands felt
their way around.  She couldn’t imagine letting a man like this touch her, yet
it was happening, and she was powerless to stop it.

He pulled out her phone and tossed it at Ivan.  “We want the
coca and the money your friends took in Vegas.  You don’t bring the coca, we
all take turns having fun with her, and then I send her back to you in pieces.” 
He pointed at the phone in Ivan’s hand.  “I call tomorrow.  Follow my
instructions and she lives.”

Katya wanted to kill them all, now, but she had to wait, pretend
to be a good little girl until the fucking cavalry arrived. 
Ivan was gonna
pay for this one
.

* * * *

Sitting on the living room couch with Michelle, Aaron
studied the autopsy, going over each page repeatedly.  There had to be
something that would give them a clue to Jamison.  Why did he come to London? 
Why would he stay?  Why was he going to the hospital so many times?  Why did he
kill the woman?  Why did he need a gun?

A set of fast moving steps ascended the stairs to the
apartment, and Aaron and Michelle stood, braced for whoever was coming. 
Aaron’s hands automatically went to his swords, ready to draw.  Ivan pushed
through the busted front door and pegged Aaron with a malicious look of hatred.

“You have been keeping secrets from me!”

“I told you everything I know about Jamison.”  Aaron
maintained his grip on his swords, unsure what to expect.

Michelle growled a warning as Ivan advanced with a pistol in
one hand and a knife in the other.  His gun rose up level with Aaron’s chest
and Michelle dropped low and hissed, claws splayed out wide at the ready. 
Aaron recognized her attack stance.

“Michelle, no.”  Aaron held a hand out to her and stepped
forward, between her and Ivan, right into the gun pointed at his chest.  If she
lunged at Ivan it was all over.  The Russian would surely end up dead, and
Aaron would surely get shot.

“They took Katya.  Some kind of Mexican mafia.  They took
her because of the men you killed in Vegas, and the cocaine.  Where is the
cocaine?”  Ivan didn’t mince words, and his fury radiated off him in waves. 
Ivan’s finger twitched on the trigger, ready to unload.  Aaron’s life hung on
his next words.

“Shit, Ivan, they did the same thing in Vegas.  They’re Colombians. 
They kidnapped my wife.  We don’t have any cocaine.  We burned everything, the
bodies, the drugs, everything.  They must be Colombians.  I just don’t
understand how they found us here, in London.”

Ivan squinted at him, uncertainty blending into the
aggressive colors of his aura.  “Where is your wife?”

“They killed her, and they will kill Katya if we don’t work
together to get her back.”

Aaron wished that somehow he could go back in time and do it
all over again, do it differently.  If he could change just one or two
decisions, Anastasia would still be alive, and Katya would not be in harm’s
way.  His stupid mistakes had endangered Katya’s life.

Ivan’s look communicated the severity of the moment.  If Katya
died, so would Aaron.  This mess had made a bitter enemy from a friend.

Michelle flexed her claws, ready for war.  “Jamison brought
them here.  He followed us from Las Vegas.  He’s using the Colombians to stop
us.  They must all die.”

Ivan slowly dropped the gun away from Aaron’s chest.  “I knew
this had to be Jamison.”  The look on his face morphed from menacing to
something else.  “That’s why I sent Katya without resistance.”  Regret.  Ivan
regretted his orders to Katya.

“What?”  Aaron could hardly believe it.

Ivan tapped his skull.  “We are connected.  I will track
her.  Where ever they go, we follow.  Make ready, we are leaving.”

Ivan looked calmer now, more assured of his plan.

Something struck Aaron a little funny.  “You could have
stopped them, but you didn’t?”

The twisted colors of guilt stabbed through Ivan’s aura. 
“Maybe not.  They had a gun to her head.”  Ivan’s aura said otherwise.

“You let it play out so that Katya could lead us to Jamison? 
I could have gotten the information from one of the Colombians.  If they knew
where Jamison was, I would’ve known.  There was no need to put Katya in this
situation.  All you had to do was bring me one of them, alive.”

Ivan glared at him, a barely contained aggression swirling
through his aura.  “I want them all together.  Better to kill them all at the
same time.  Jamison and the Colombians.  Don’t worry about Katya, she can
handle this.  She has survived worse.”  He looked pointedly at Michelle.  “This
one almost killed her.  But Katya is stronger than she looks.”

Ivan was a cold, calculating bastard.

Aaron shook his head.  How could Ivan send her out with
those psychos, with an order not to resist?  He knew what those men would do,
given a chance.  “And what if we don’t get there before …”

“Stop worrying about her.  Worry about Jamison.  Vampires
are not easy to kill.”  Again he looked right at Michelle, who had evaded death
more times than a cat with nine lives.

Michelle stood ready.  Aaron dug through her unshielded
mind.  She wasn’t overly concerned about Katya, but she was primed for the
hunt.  She had her sights on Jamison, and any fool Colombians who might step
into her path.  She would teach them all a lesson.  That dark, wicked edge he’d
seen from her days in WWII was back.  Michelle the Nazi skinner, Michelle who
delighted in her enemy’s entrails, Michelle the mass murderer.

Ivan headed to the bedroom, rummaged through a heavy steel
chest, pulled out an Uzi, several clips, a handgun, and a fistful of throwing
knives.  He was gearing up like fucking Rambo.

Michelle began to pace the room in anticipation.  It had
been a long time since she had freed this wicked side of her personality, and
Aaron sensed she would enjoy this all too much.  Tonight, death would come in a
miniskirt and high heels.  Though stylish, it wasn’t exactly the right outfit
for the job.

“You should change.  Put on some of Katya’s clothes and
shoes.”

Michelle looked down at herself.  Aaron tried not to laugh
at her.  She looked up at him in a squint, and didn’t even acknowledge that he
was right.  She went straight for Katya’s dresser and rummaged through her
clothes.

“I need to let Urvashi know what’s happening.”

Michelle stopped digging through drawers and threw him a
sharp look, but held her tongue and accepted it with a nod.

Closing his eyes, he reached out to his new master.  He
sensed a bone-chilling cold, a warehouse environment with little heat.  Around
her, numerous men were doing the same thing as Ivan, gearing up for some sort
of assault.  What the fuck was she up to?

{{Vash, its happening tonight.  Jamison brought in
Colombians.  They are related to the men I killed in Vegas.  He’s using their
vendetta to his advantage.  They kidnapped Katya.  We are going after her
now.}}  He sensed a spike of distress and irritation from Urvashi.

{{I am beginning to think you are more trouble than you’re
worth.}}

{{We will get Katya back.  This should give us a path to
Jamison.  I will do everything I can to finish it tonight, I promise.}}

{{This is a bad time.}}  She was irritated, but with an edge
of some anxiety too.  Something was very wrong in Moscow.

{{It’s happening tonight.  I am not leaving Katya with those
men until tomorrow.}}

She snapped at him impatiently.  {{I don’t have time to
explain, I’m here with the pack.  It’s a combat operation.  The pack is … complicated,
and they are all connected.  It is unwise to run two operations at this
distance.}}

{{There’s no choice, Urvashi.  Ivan’s not gonna sit this
out, and Katya’s life is already at risk.}}

{{Don’t let their appearance fool you.  They are lethal
hunters.  Katya is not a damsel in distress.  She’s a Trojan horse.}}

{{I don’t give a shit if she wears a fucking saddle.  We’re
going after Katya, tonight.  You asked me to keep you informed, and I did.  Why
don’t you return the courtesy and tell me what the hell is happening in Moscow?}}

{{You really must get a grip on your temper.}}  She paused,
and Aaron waited.  {{We are taking Dmitri down.  I won’t go into the reasons,
but it’s necessary, and must be done immediately.}}

{{Open season on vampires, eh?}}

She didn’t take his bait.  She was silent for a moment.  {{I
wish you were here.  We could use your help.}}  She paused again, and he sensed
something he’d never felt from her before – insecurity. {{I need you, Aaron.}}

That was a first.

Urvashi didn’t need anyone, for anything.  He wondered what
exactly she meant.  {{I will come to you as soon as it’s done.  Is this what
you were talking about, us being separated?  Is it a problem for you?}}

{{We will talk about it later.}}

{{That’s what you said last time.}}

{{Yes, it’s a problem.  Apart, we are a liability to each
other.  You must take care.}}

Urvashi the enigma.  Her words led to more questions than
answers.  Confucius say, man who bites fallen angel should not complain of the
taste.

{{Yes Mother, I’ll be careful when hunting vampires and drug
dealers, I promise.}}

{{Indeed.}}  With that she shut down their connection. 
Conversation over.

Opening his eyes to focus on the task at hand, Ivan handed
him a black, semi-automatic pistol.  “You know how to use this?”

He nodded.  “Let me have one of the Uzi’s.”

Ivan looked at him seriously.  “I don’t want to get shot.”

Aaron couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.  Preparing
for war, and he didn’t even know how to use a damn gun.

Ivan squinted at him.  “Is better to use the swords.  Stick
with what you know.  Fight on instinct.”

Aaron shoved the pistol in his jacket pocket.  “Sure,
whatever.  But I’m keeping this just in case.”

“You might want to put on the safety.”

Aaron pulled the loaded gun out his pocket
ever-so-carefully.  Ivan showed him the button, clicked it on and off a couple
times to demonstrate.  “Got it, I’m good.”

He knew Ivan was right.  He’d probably do better with the
swords, or even go for Michelle’s hands-on approach – claws and fangs.

* * * *

“Get off, you sodding wanker!”  Wrists cuffed in front of
her, Katya struggled to remove the man’s hand from the crack of her ass.

“I like a woman with spirit!  I bet you fuck like a bitch in
heat.”

“Pull it out of your pants and I’ll twist it off!  Keep that
cock out of my reach!”

He chuckled and shoved her face-down on the bed.  “That’s
good to know.  We’re gonna tie you up tight before we tap that ass.”

She screamed into the bedding and pushed hard to send him
flying off her back.  He stepped away just in time to evade her kick.  “Stay
away from me!”  She growled low.  This man was pushing her over the edge of
control.

Her hands clenched and she gritted her teeth to fight off
the insane need.  Her wolf wanted out.  Now.  Her wolf wanted this man’s balls
for a snack.  The beast wanted to chew up through his groin, through all that
tender, juicy meat, to the good stuff in the belly.  The guts have such rich
flavor for wolves.

Her tormentor stared at her as she twitched and shook,
straining to fight off the wolf.  Aaron had almost done it to her a couple hours
earlier, and the beast remained too close to the skin.

“I think this puta is high or something.  She’s fucking
weird essay.”  He walked out the door with a frowning glance over his shoulder.

Katya had barely regained control when she smelled
him
standing
in the doorway watching her.  He had that coppery tang, like day old blood,
accompanied by the vampire’s pheromonal scent.  She smelled Jamison’s chemical
lure, and knew it to be the same lure that had seduced her niece, Kristina,
into a state of voluntary slavery to Dmitri.

She hated vampires, all of them.  Aaron and Michelle were but
a temporary exception to the rule.

She caught Jamison’s eyes and stared.  A vivid picture of
flashing fangs shredding through soft, juicy flesh filled her mind and her wolf
promised he would die soon.

He watched her.  His nostrils flared as he caught her
scent.  She saw it in his eyes when he realized she was more than she
appeared.  He turned on his heels to talk to someone down the hallway.  She
strained to hear the whispered words that betrayed Jamison’s anxiety.

“This girl is all wrong.  There’s something …
different
about her.  She needs to be cuffed, bound and gagged.  Keep the men away from
her.”

The other man sounded British and had a tint of laughter in
his voice.  “No.  She is mine now.  I will do what I want with her.  It’s none
of your concern.  You shouldn’t even be here.  This is our business.”

“I’ll stay out of your way.  I just need to be sure you
finish this.  I can’t have these people hunting me wherever I go.”

Then it clicked and all the pieces fell into place. 
Albanians.  The Albanians were in the mix with the Latinos.  A royal fucking
mess.

“Don’t worry, mate.  We got the situation in hand.  You just
keep out of it.  Go have some fun with the girl if you like.  A freebie.  Get
her while she’s still fresh.”  The Albanian walked off chuckling.

Katya prayed Jamison would be foolish enough to enter the
room with her.  It had been far too long since her wolf tasted the flesh of a
vampire.

* * * *